The Dark Side
by Lola CS Kirschstein
Summary: A short story documenting the beginnings of a villain. Sometimes good people do bad things. (Reviews more than welcome! :))


The Dark Side

_It's my fault. And everyone knows. They'll come for me. They're coming._

His long, greasy hair hung loosely in his face, and as he began to run it blinded him, trying to hold him back. With strong, bloodstained hands he wiped the hair from his face, and left the house, left the them to die.

He was a killer.

It had happened so suddenly, he hadn't had the time to protect them from it. It came in a great burst, like an atom bomb going off in his living room, and he's had no power to stop it. It was her fault, really, but _It was my fault!_ She had been too quiet for too long. He had known his little sister, who suffered from severe autism, had been deathly ill. But she couldn't speak, and his parents were already abusive enough towards her… what would they do if they knew she was even more sick? His father, a drunk, obese and distempered old man had already broken her arm twice since she was 6, and for less than wasting money. His mother, a paranoid schizophrenic who refused to take her pills, had tried to kill her with gas 2 years before. He had made his mind up. He would run away from them, with his sister, and get the hell out. He could find a way… no, damn it, he WOULD find a way.

He waited till it was dark outside, so that his father would succumb to drunken slumber and his mother would be compulsively counting cards in her bedroom… it would be the only time where both parents would be completely uninterested in the whereabouts of their children. He got dressed in his cleanest pair of jeans, put on two pairs of socks, and packed up all of his meager belongings in a backpack, with room to spare. He snuck into his sister's room, packed some of her prettiest things, and picked her up from her bed with much care. She was burning hot. A shiny sheen of sweat covered her forehead and chest, and her breathing was loud. She looked so much like him; long, blonde hair and deep green eyes, a funny birthmark next to her nose, plump lips. She was such a beautiful child, but no one cared except for him. He went quietly downstairs.

Everything went smoothly, until his sister began to cough. Normally, when she wasn't ill, she would make all sorts of loud, strange noises all through the night, and nobody ever woke. But for whatever reason, bad luck or just fate, that one small cough caught the attention of his father, who looked over in anger. He saw his father, an ugly pig of a man, bald and grimy and surrounded by a fog of alcohol fumes. What stood out the most, though, were the dark, menacing eyes that glittered with fury. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" He barked in a slurred manner. He somehow turned out of the tattered old recliner and stood unstable on his feet. As he began to take wobbly steps towards him and his sister, he turned and tried to open the door, only to find his mother there standing in his way. "I knew I should have thrown this one to the dogs," She said, pointing her finger in her son's face," I should have aborted you as soon as I pissed on that stick. I always knew something was wrong with you. First with your black magic and now you want to take my only daughter away?"

"She's sick. She's hardly breathing. Move or I'll kill you. I swear I will." He breathed in quick breaths and found his father behind him, and ducked just in time to avoid a blow from his huge, meaty hands. His sister fell to the floor and groaned weakly. _Fuck grab her or—_It was too late. His mother, that disgusting, filthy woman picked the child up by her arms and put her on a nearby couch, then turned to him and slapped him. "You think you can take everything from me, can't you?" He blocked the second blow, but could parry the one from his father, who punched him square in the back of the head. "You worthless sack of shit. I'll show you." She kicked him savagely when he fell to the ground, and the couple whom he had called his parents began to kick him. That's when he began to feel it, his inner power, growing in his gut more powerful than it ever had before.

_YOU FUCKING BITCH. YOU FUCKING DRUNK. YOU'LL KILL MY SISTER I WON'T LET YOU KILL HER SHE'S INNOCENT YOU PIECE OF CRAP I'LL KILL YOU I'LL KILL YOU I'LL KILL YOU—_

It came out in a quick blast, like an atomic bomb right then, coming out of him. He screamed as the great force was let loose from his body. But he heard it. There were several sounds, all at once. He heard their bones crack and their bodies break, all three of them. He felt the furniture be flipped over and flung across the room. Blood flowed freely on the ground; A little of it was his, but the rest…

He opened his eyes and looked at the disaster. The most he had been able to do before was move things, pick things up with his mind, hover them in the air. This… was something that frightened him. His mother was dead, her neck stuck at a strange angle that he knew was not supposed be. His father lived, but lay on the ground, choking on his own blood. He looked where the couch had been… and his stomach dropped. She was on the floor. She did not stir. He ran to her, his little blonde angel, and felt no pulse. He felt the feeling growing inside of him again, that unexplainable feeling of hate and anger. It wasn't them. It was him. He had killed her. He looked at his hands. He wasn't sure who's blood was on them, but it was there. Horrified, he got up, and he ran.

Down the road, and into the field. On the other side, there was a huge radio antenna. He planned to climb it. The climb was hard, as tears and his own blood and hair attempted to blind him, stop him maybe. But there was no running away. This wasn't a gift. It was a curse. He never asked for ay fucking ability. He didn't want to be different. And now, with that strange and mysterious power he had only toyed with before, he had killed the one he most loved. He neared the top of the antenna.

At the top, the wind was strong. He thought about how much the drop would hurt. He wondered if he would see his parents in hell… and prayed that his sister had gone to Heaven, where she belonged. He used his free hand to wipe his face of sweat and tears, and was about to let go. Then he heard a voice.

"That was truly something." A devious voice whispered," You may have gotten the little girl, but you got those two pigs pretty good."

He looked around, and saw that directly below him a person, bathed in shadow, speaking to him. "She was my sister," He said, trying to keep his voice from wavering," I was trying to save her…" The person climbed a little higher up, so that he was almost level to him. The voice sounded female, but the moon was not out tonight, and it was impossible to see just who it was. "That's too bad… but you don't have to kill yourself over this, you know. With your kind of power, you could save many people. It wouldn't make up for what you've done, but maybe…" The voice faltered. He thought for a moment, with nothing but the wind in his ears. He wanted to get it done with. These heights were making him sick, and his heart was beating too fast, and the smell of blood and sweat filled him with dread. "Who are you?" He asked suspiciously. "I am… someone who could help you. You're a mutant, and a damned powerful one at that. I work with people like you who want to make the better place." He considered this a moment, then asked," How do I know I can trust you?" The person laughed, yes, definitely female, and asked," Do you really have any other options?"

The climb down from the antenna was far more terrifying than the way up, and he was glad when he got down. "What is your name?" The woman questioned, to which the boy replied," I mean, your new name." He thought a moment. "Pierce." They walked in silence down the road, and he could hear police sirens far off. He seemed numb to it all. "We're going to meet the director, my boss." She said to him, still cloaked in shadow. They came to him before long.

"My name is Magneto," The man said with a deep, booming voice," And welcome."

Pierce only wiped his eyes and went with them, feeling that he had turned his back on his old life for good, and was walking further onto the dark side of the moon.


End file.
